


Whatever You Have

by piginapoketuesday



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Curiosity, Gen, Neck Kissing, Nonconsensual Kiss, Other, Throat Kissing, Will is a Mess, disrespect of personal space, literally what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 01:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4768364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginapoketuesday/pseuds/piginapoketuesday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal and Will meet on a balcony somewhere and shit gets invasive as usual.</p><p>I'm on 2x03 and wtf man I don't even know. I don't ship Hannigram (yet?!? maybe?!? so many episodes left) but I feel like this little exploratory piece covers their weird creepy THING that is just predatory and sad and ehhhghhh idk. I'm so here for Will not taking Hannibal's shit even when he's sick, so that's what this is. I'm also super intrigued by Hannibal's obsession, so that's also what this is. Gahhh just read it idk I've never been so conflicted about a tv show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever You Have

“Careful, Will. I’m afraid you’ll fall.”

That lisping, stranglehold voice made him turn away from the view off the balcony. “I doubt you fear many things, Dr. Lecter.”

“I fear losing you. We’re friends. Your loss would be painful.” Hannibal’s wine-colored suit was almost bloody in the dim light.

Will’s face twitched, his eyes sunken and unsure. “Do you feel pain, or just this . . . dull ache?” His expression was almost a sneer.

Hannibal moved nearer, backing the younger man up against the balcony rail. “Have I caused you pain, Will?” His tone was both apologetic and sadistic, searching for something to taste.

The professor flinched. A dark face and antlers flashed over Hannibal’s eyes. “I don’t know.”

“What do you see?” His hand touched Will’s chin, tilting it up until their eyes met.

Shaking, vision fading in and out of reality, Will mumbled, “Nhh—you—all those—”

Hannibal dipped his head and pressed his lips to the curve of Will’s throat. He inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent.

The young man almost convulsed. He jerked out of Hannibal’s grasp, with the lingering sensation of a mouth at his jugular. “What are you doing?”

“Forgive me. I can see my advances are not welcomed.” Nothing in the psychiatrist’s eyes begged forgiveness.

Will swallowed. “Your— _advances_ . . . what do you want from me, Dr. Lecter.”

A gentle hint of a smile played on Hannibal’s lips. “Whatever you have.”


End file.
